Mommy, Me & Mr Klaus
by abrightredrose
Summary: Their first meeting was by accident, and mostly her daughter's fault. She never thought she'd see him again, but like many things in her life, they just don't go according to plan (AU/AH; Klaroline) [On hiatus until further notice]
1. The Subway Snatcher

**VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE PLEASE READ:** Before you start reading my story, I just want to make something crystal clear: I have never, ever watched _The Vampire Diaries_ or _The Originals_ before, but before you close this tab hear me out on _why_ I'm writing a TVD story. Like many others, I'm obsessed with Klaroline and have been for a while now. It started with reading a fanfic out of the blue and after that I had to know everything there was about these two. I just knew I had to write a story with them and after watching all their scenes + researching + reading a ton of fanfics, I finally feel ready to contribute to the wonderful fandom on here (even if my fics aren't that good)

Hopefully with what I have now learned about TVD it can help me form a coherent story with characters that aren't too OOC, but if they are, I'm sorry. I have tried in the past to watch the show, but I don't think it would be of any interest to me to start from the beginning with the show ending in a few weeks.

Anyway, enough talking, here is the first chapter of my first ever Klaroline story, _Mommy, Me & Mr. Klaus_. I've been working really hard on this for the past five months and I really hope you give it a chance. This story is currently unbetad, so sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Please be kind.

 **DISCLAIMER:** I do not _own The Vampire Diaries, The Originals_ or their characters. All rights go to their respective owners. This story is **RATED M** for **language** and future **mature scenes**.

If you want you can follow me (for story updates and my random ramblings) on **Twitter:** yoursklauss **/ Tumblr:** yoursniklaus

* * *

Caroline Forbes was furious.

No, furious didn't even begin to describe how she was feeling at this very moment. She was like a wild storm, the hot anger coursing uncontrollably through her veins, and it all had to do with her douche of an ex-boyfriend.

"No, don't you start with that speech again. You said you were going to spend the weekend with her. She's been looking forward to this for weeks Tyler! What am I supposed to tell her? Emma, your dad can't spend time with you cause he's too busy giving the dumb blonde he just met the worse orgasm of her life?"

The moment she heard the tone of his voice, she knew exactly how the conversation was going to play out. It was how it always went. He would answer on the third or fourth ring, say her name like he was surprised to hear her, and then lay out the same excuse. Still, she hoped by some miracle it would be different for her daughter's sake. But this was Tyler, a man who she knew all too well, a man who only ever looked out for his needs.

"I seem to recall your screams being more than pleasurable." She could practically hear that irritable smug smirk she had grown to hate.

"Not the point Tyler!" She snapped.

Even after being separated for all these years he still managed to find a way to get under her skin. It was just so typical Tyler and she loathed him for it. And for the record, it wasn't the first time they met, it happened in your most cliché high school setting—in his vintage 1971 Buick GS right after being crowned Prom King & Queen. It was small, cramped and her back and neck hurt for days after. Definitely not an experience she would call mind blowing. Not to mention, she spent weeks searching for the perfect dress only for it to end up torn in the back seat of his car without an apology.

It was hard to imagine they had once been that inseparable couple who ruled their small town. The head cheerleader and the cornerback, the daughter of a single father and the mayor's son, the innocent blonde and the hot-headed alpha. Both living in a world with no consequences, unaware of what the immediate future had in store for them, and how quickly everything would change.

Caroline closed her eyes, and took a deep breath into her lungs before continuing. "You just don't get it do you? Emma is the absolute best thing to ever happen to either of us, and you're throwing away your relationship with her every time you don't keep your word."

"I didn't do it on purpose," he retorted.

Or in other words: _it's not my fault that women_ _keep_ _throwing themselves at me._ He just couldn't say no to anything with boobs. God, could he really not go that long without getting some or was his dick that much of a priority over his daughter?

She laughed in utter disbelief. "I know you Tyler. This happens every Friday night at the bar after work. And today, just so happens to be the weekend you're meant to be spending time with your daughter and where are you? At the freaking bar with your little work buddies picking up women."

"Caro—"

"Damn it Tyler! You haven't seen her for nearly two months! I'm tired of these phone calls and listening to the same excuses over and over: its work, it's a woman, oh and my personal favorite, it's just not the right time. When is the right time Tyler? When Emma graduates, her wedding day? Please tell me because I obviously can't figure it out."

"Care."

"No, don't call me that. We are not in high school anymore, we're grown adults with a daughter that needs to spend time with _both_ of her parents. This weekend was supposed to be special because Monday also happens to be a very important day for her or did you forget that too?"

There was a beat of silence as she waited for his response, but she knew he had nothing reasonable to say. He never did.

"You don't know how not keeping your word affects her. You don't have to see the disappointed look on her face when I have to tell her yet again, her father has better things to do than to see his own daughter."

The other end of the line became muffled and Caroline swore she heard a female voice or should she say his latest companion for the evening say something she couldn't quite make out.

She shook her head and her voice dropped to a soft tone, like it did all the times when she looked to him for comfort in high school, only this time there was no sense of longing. "You got off easy. For six years I never asked you for any sort of child support, I never got the courts involved in visit arrangements, because I thought we were better than that. I thought _you_ were better than that."

"I'm really sorry Caroline, I'll make it up to her, I promise."

It sounded like he truly meant it, but in her heart, she knew they were just empty words with no sincerity behind them. A promise she heard countless times without it ever coming to fruition. "Just go take your little friend back home, I'm sure she's waiting, unlike someone else here."

"It's—"

"No," she intones sharply. "When you want to start acting like a real father then give me a call. Have a wonderful evening." She angrily hung up, snarling a string of curses under her breath.

Of course he would've scored some woman— _and_ _why did they always have to be blonde_ —because it would be against the law for Tyler Lockwood to leave the bar without someone on his arm, that would be a big shame to his manhood. No doubt he would've been dressed in his sleek, sharp looking suit that probably cost more than her monthly rent and drowned in an aftershave that seemed to have the ability to allure anyone with a single whiff. That, plus the Lockwood charm was all he needed to get an invitation for a woman to spend the night at his luxurious penthouse suite. Of course, that was more important than the little girl they bought into the world.

Damn her for still having that little ounce of faith in him. It was clear now that he had no real intentions of wanting to be in his daughter's life. Once his mind was made up there was very little anyone could do to change it, not even her. _Maybe I am a dumb blonde_. No, without her dumb actions in high school, she wouldn't have her world and joy that was Emma.

"He's not coming is he?" A little voice asked, despondently.

Caroline whirled around to see her six-year-old daughter, all ready to spend what was meant to be an exciting weekend with her father. Apart from his eyes and maybe his eyebrows, there wasn't an inch of Tyler in her. She was a complete mirror image of Caroline baring her flaxen hair—though Emma's had a more of a golden hue to it—to the light dust of freckles underneath her eyes. She was, to simply put it, beautiful and radiant.

You could always tell if Emma was in the room, there was always this bouncing energy and light around, but looking at her now the light and energy seemed burnt out. Caroline tried to muster a small smile, but she could see the disappointment glinting in Emma's doe nut-brown eyes.

"No, I'm afraid he has . . . something to take care off."

It wasn't technically a lie, he had an impatient blonde to bed, but she couldn't exactly tell her that. This was just a much cleaner version of the truth.

"Again?" Her lips formed into a small pout.

Caroline let out a long breath and tucked a loose lock of hair behind Emma's ear. "I'm really sorry, I know you were looking forward to spending time with your dad." She said, her voice full of pity.

"When will I get to see him?"

"I don't know honey," she admitted.

She knew that was not the answer her daughter was hoping for; the crestfallen expression on her face said it all.

Caroline's heart clenched. On the one hand, she just wanted to scoop up her daughter and tell her how much her father loved and missed her, but after today's conversation she knew that was furthest from the truth. His daughter just wasn't a number one priority in his book. He had more pressing matters to attend to than spend an afternoon drawing and getting to know her.

Sometimes she felt Emma and Tyler were still strangers to each other, they didn't have that organic bond and only he was to blame. What hurt more was that regardless of him hardly making appearances Emma still wanted to spend time with him, whether it was going out for ice cream or staying the weekend, because she wanted to have that father-daughter relationship with him.

If she told her daughter all those promises she'd just be like Tyler, feeding her empty words just to keep her hanging by a thread, getting her hopes up only for the bitter reality to come knocking on the door. She needed to protect her daughter from getting hurt again and she hoped that by not telling her those promises she was doing the right thing.

"Tell you what, why don't I grab my jacket and instead we can go to our favorite pizza place, make it our own special day?" She proposed.

She knew going out for a simple slice of pizza didn't sound as exciting as whatever Tyler would've had planned—and when he wanted too he would go all out—but at least she was here for her daughter and for the rest of the evening would make sure she would take Emma's mind off her absent father.

"Can we get stuffed crust?" Emma asked, her eyes immediately lighting up.

"Of course."

"And garlic knots?"

Caroline crooked her lips into a smirk. "Now you're talking. What about toppings?"

"Pepperoni!" Emma exclaimed as she followed her mother into her bedroom and went over to sit on the bed.

"Mmm and jalapeños!" Caroline added with a moan of delight.

Emma's face twisted into a prim expression.

"What's that face for young lady?"

"Are you sure, last time your face went all red and you couldn't stop coughing!" She giggled at the memory.

"That sounds like a challenge to me Emma Forbes, and you know I never back down from a challenge."

Emma just smiled innocently and swung her legs back and forth.

Caroline slipped on her denim jacket and unpinned her hair letting the blonde tendrils fall around her shoulders. "Alright, little Miss-I-Can-Handle-Spice-And-You-Can't, pizza awaits us."

Emma held her mother's hand and climbed down the stairs into the station, silently counting the number of steps even though she already knew how many there were. Ever since she took her first trip on the subway, she automatically knew it would be her favorite way to travel around the big, bustling city. She liked looking at the big route map on the wall, the rainbow of lines zigzagging and intersecting across the board going from east to west, imagining all the places she could go. She didn't know how big New York was until her eyes landed on that map, and lucky for her she was less than 44 inches and had a free pass to see all of it—as long as her mother was with her.

"So what train do we need to take?" Caroline asked as they approached the platform.

"The G train!"

"Well, aren't you clever?" She grinned, looking at the countdown clock.

Being in the heart of Brooklyn, the station was crawling with tourists sporting large sun hats and fancy cameras around their necks, consulting their maps and guidebooks; smartly dressed financiers and brokers who were coming home after a long day on Wall Street. It was the same flock of people, but what grabbed Emma's attention was the man sitting at the other end of the platform with a canvas and easel situated in front of him.

 _Why is he painting here?_ Emma mused, pursing her lips in confusion.

There was always something new to find in the city, but this was by far the strangest. It was the kind of unrealistic scenario you'd read in books or see on TV shows. But this wasn't fiction, she was seeing it with her own eyes, there really was an artist doing their work _in_ the subway station. Was that even allowed? Maybe he was one of those art performers who didn't want to be surrounded by all the other artists, or maybe he was homeless.

"Mommy, when's the train coming?"

"Another 10 minutes sweetie, you can sit down on the bench there if you want."

She did have three quarters just sitting in her pocket. Nervously chewing on her bottom lip, she glanced back at the artist. She knew what the right thing to do was, but when curiosity started to gnaw at her, there was no stopping her. As her mother said, being curious is the best thing you can be.

She silently counted to five before her feet carried her over to the artist.

Her little heart started to pound with excitement. Although she couldn't see his face, she could tell he was completely devoted to the canvas, by the way the brush glided ever so fluidly. The entire surface was covered in different shades of black and grey, but trapped in the middle of all the darkness was a beautifully detailed single snowflake.

"Why did you use dark colours?" She curiously tilted her head and pressed her lips into a thin line.

Her comment broke the artists' concentration and he turned around to see where the voice came from. The last thing he expected was for a little girl—who looked no more than four or five—to critique his unfinished work. Where did she even come from? Where were her parents? Did she get lost and come here by mistake?

"It's a beautiful painting, but I don't understand it."

"What do you mean?" He knew he should've asked a different, more important question, but the definite gleam of intrigue in the little blonde's eyes made it clear that she wasn't scared or unfazed.

"Snowflakes are pretty to look at and remind me of Christmas where you can play out in the snow all day, and then have hot coco straight after. But you only used black and grey colours, the opposite of happy and cheerful."

Her response took him back and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was used to those snobby critics and benefactors commenting on his work using eloquent and ardent language he didn't understand half the time. It was refreshing and somewhat nice to hear a different reaction other than something that sounded like it came out of a textbook.

"You have a good eye, and I'll take your comment as a compliment, but an artist never reveals his secret," he told her with a smile.

She scrunched up her face in incredulity, "Are you sure you're a _real_ artist?"

"What makes you think I'm not?" He asked, intrigued at her question.

"You're not wearing a smock."

He looked down at his clothes. "Indeed I am not, you wanna why? It's a true mark of an artist to get a little paint on their clothes as well as the canvas. You can't see it, but there are some spots of paint on my clothes."

Her eyes and mouth slowly widened at his explanation. "I knew it! I knew it!" She said squealing in happiness. "I've never met a real artist before! Do you only just paint? How long have you been an artist for? Is any of your art in a gallery?"

"You sure ask a lot of questions."

She smiled and nodded her head. "My mom says it's always good to be curious."

Before he could respond, the sound of heels tapping furiously against the ground and the voice of a woman calling out came to a halt in front of them.

"Oh, Emma!" She cried out in relief and dropped to her knees in font of them.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Caroline asked frantically, cradling Emma's face in her shaking hands. She blinked back the unshed tears to make sure this really was her little girl. The little jagged scar on her chin was a definite reminder of the time she tried jumping from the couch pretending to be Supergirl.

"I turned around and you weren't there. I thought—" the words were stuck in her throat, because saying them out loud meant this could've be an entirely different situation and the thought of that was just too much to bare.

To have your child go missing was any parent's worst nightmare. It was like watching them take part in a magic act, one minute they're happily waiting behind the velvet curtain for the magician to say abracadabra and the next they have disappeared into thin air. Only this time, the magician can't make them reappear, there are no magic words, no secret compartments, and no applause. She failed at doing the one thing she vowed she would do: keep her child safe.

Her arms enveloped around Emma in a protective cocoon and she breathed in her familiar sweet strawberry scent. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," her voice muffled into her daughter's hair as relief ran through her entire body. She was here and alive, but that still didn't explain how she ended up getting away from her in the first place.

And then it dawned upon her. Her daughter wasn't alone when she found her . . . she was with someone. A man neither of them knew. Just thinking about all the things he could've said or done to lead her daughter here made her stomach twist in a nauseating knot. It was like a horror movie had come to life, her daughter had fallen victim to the man's sweet words and Caroline wasn't there to save her.

Caroline suddenly felt the hairs on her neck stand, and she snapped round noticing the man was standing there watching their interaction. Her fear quickly morphed into anger, how dare he look so . . . calm and collected as if he didn't do anything wrong.

"You." She stood up and protectively pulled Emma behind her as she confronted the man.

"What were you doing with my daughter?" She growled at him, her eyes flared up with rage as she took a few steps towards him without realizing it. She was on mom defense mode now and would be sure to give this man a piece of her mind.

"Huh? What kind of game do you think you're playing?" She abruptly pushed his shoulders, sending him to stumble back a step and a few of his paintbrushes to fall to the ground. "Pretending to be an artist to lure children into your trap is just sick, and after today I can guarantee you won't be going near another child, especially mine."

Even though Caroline was seething, she couldn't deny he was good looking with his dark blonde hair coiffed neatly above his forehead and ears, and strong, define jaw that was surrounded by hints of stubble. It was distracting, and definitely not in a good way.

This was certainly not how he expected this conversation to go. She was like a firecracker going off with one accusation right after another. The resemblance between mother and daughter was striking, from the golden curls to the amount of words they could say per minute. He was so taken with her that he almost wanted to see how long she could keep it up before he actually told her the truth.

"Well, aren't you going to answer me or should I let the authorities handle that? I'm sure they would love to know who the subway snatcher is." She sent him a murderous glare and crossed her arms across her chest.

 _Subway Snatcher?_ She was truly something else. He knew from her tone that she was being serious, but he couldn't help the deep chuckle to emit from his throat.

Though Caroline's hard gaze didn't thaw, she felt an involuntary shiver shot down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. "This is not funny! Why are you laughing?"

"On the contrary love, you haven't even given me a chance to speak. I'm sure if you'd let me, I'd be happy to answer all your burning questions." He countered, meeting the blonde's gaze and watched the flames darken behind her blue irises.

Taken aback, her face faltered to one of shock. As cliché as it was, there was just something about hearing a refined, crisp British accent that made her toes curl, and suddenly her eyes riveted to his deep, crimson, tantalizing—

 _Quit looking at him like that Caroline!_

As if an elastic band had snapped back into place, the displeasure came rushing back like a tidal wave. "Well, explain yourself," she glowered at him, pursing her lips together in a tight line.

"I can assure you I'm no subway snatcher," he said, air quoting.

"That's exactly what one would say," she remarked.

"Enlighten me, what exactly is a subway snatcher? This is the first time I've ever heard of it."

"Maybe not where you're from, but in these United States when you _take_ someone's child it's a crime and you can get up to 8 years," she clarified for him.

"Actually," he paused and licked his lips, "your daughter came up to me."

Silence.

Caroline felt her heart stop at his words. He had to be, no _was_ lying. There was no way Emma would wander off by herself, especially after what happened last time. She knew what the consequences were, and since then she's been like her second shadow and abided by the rules. No, she didn't believe him, he was nothing more than a deceitful predator.

"You're just something aren't you? First you pretend to be an artist, then you snatch my daughter and now you have the nerve to tell me that it was all _her_ fault?" Her volume started to escalate, and the other commuters were starting to stare at their not so friendly exchange.

"Easy, love. You're making a scene," he said, taking a step closer to her.

"I'm making a scene?" She incredulously asks. "You're the bad guy here. My daughter didn't do anything wrong, you practically lured her over here with whatever tricks you perves have up your sleeve."

"That is quite a story you're stringing together. I assure you sweetheart, it was nothing like that."

"Stop with the terms of endearment!" She snapped.

He clipped his lips shut hiding the grin that threatened to spread across his was amusing to watch the blonde get so strung up, the way her little nose crinkled slightly, the way her full pink lips wrapped around each word in annoyance, the way that little wrinkle would appear between her eyebrows.

"Don't make me ask again."

"Why don't you ask your daughter what really happened and then I'm sure this will all be cleared up."

Her eyes widened at the realization. Why hadn't she already asked?

From the moment she learnt that her daughter was not alone, alerts went ringing off in her mind. She dove in headfirst and only thought of the worst. She had been too enraged and focused on wanting to turn the man into a pulp that she had forgotten to even get her daughter's side of the story, the only side that truly mattered. The thought of something happening to her daughter and not knowing about it because she let her anger take over made her gut twist further.

"Emma," She said calmly, kneeling down to face her daughter, "did this man tell you to follow him and promise to give you something if you did?"

The pregnant pause that followed seemed endless. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears as she prayed it wasn't the scenario she had running through her mind.

"No, I came here by myself," Emma answered guiltily not meeting her mother's boring gaze.

Caroline sighs out the breath she didn't know she had been holding.

 _Nothing happened._

 _Emma was fine and unharmed._

Her relief was short-lived however, when she realized what her daughter words meant. She had ignored all the rules and roamed around in one of the busiest places in the city, putting herself in potential danger.

"Emma, what have I told you about wandering off? You know it's not safe, especially here where there are lots of people," she scolded in a stern voice.

"I just wanted to see his painting that's all." Emma explained, her voice turning timid.

"Sweetie, I know you like the subway but it's still dangerous you could've hurt yourself. And more importantly, you don't know who that man is."

"But he's not a stranger, he's a real artist!"

"Do you know his name?"

Emma nervously bit down on her lower lip and shook her head, the little curls bouncing around her face.

"And that means he's a stranger."

Emma's eyes were now focused on the ground looking adequately chastised. "Am I in trouble?" She frowned.

"We'll talk about that later, right now I want you to promise me you won't ever do something like this again, and I mean it Emma, a real promise."

"I super extra pinky promise I won't wander off or talk to strangers again." Emma vowed.

"Good." Caroline smiled and embraced her into another tight hug, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I'm sorry for making you scared and upset," Emma muffled into her mother's shoulder.

"As long as you don't do it again, you understand?"

Emma smiled softly and nodded her head in unison, "I promise Mommy."

Caroline looked back up at the man and felt the heat crept up the back of her neck. Did she really call this innocent man a perve among other things right in front of everyone? His piercing blue eyes were intensely studying her. They reminded her of a hurricane, their stormy depths deeply pulling you in and she found herself unable to look away.

"Well, it appears I may have been a bit hasty in my accusations, but you can't blame me. I mean when you find your daughter missing with a man you don't know, you just..."

His lips curled up into a smirk, highlighting the deep-set dimples in his cheeks. "You don't have to explain, love. I understand," his voice low and rumbling.

"I'm sorry mister, I didn't mean to get you into trouble." Emma interrupted with a deep frown.

"Well, it didn't turn out all bad did it? You met a real artist, I got to meet my first New York critic and of course, your beautiful mother." He looked over at the older blonde and gave her a devilish grin to which she scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

A beaming smile wiped the frown clean from Emma's face. "Did you hear that mom? I'm a critic." She declared proudly holding up her chin.

The automated arrival broadcast played overhead, announcing that the train was approaching the platform. "Come on Emma, we better get going." Caroline took Emma's hand and proceeded to leave.

"Wait," the artist leaned forward and gently caught her arm. "Here you go Emma, a little souvenir," he took out a piece of paper and quickly scribbled something onto it before handing it to her.

She squealed in delight and took the paper. "Thank you mister! Oh here." She reached into her pocket and handed him the three quarters.

His brows stitched together as he stared down at the shiny coins in his hand, but when he went to thank her, the little blonde and her mother had disappeared into the sea of people. With a grin he turned back to his work, somehow he knew this wouldn't be the last time he would see them.

* * *

If you're reading this, it means you gave my fanfic a chance and to any writer, that means everything. So thank you so much! I hope you stick around for what else I've got planned for Klaus, Caroline & Emma. Next chapter should be up in a week or so, in the meantime please leave your reviews, comments, suggestions etc.

Thank you, Nishita (:


	2. First Days

**A/N:** Wow! I wasn't expecting that much of a response and am so grateful to everyone that gave my story a chance. The Klaroline fandom has been so nice and welcoming, and after not uploading any of my work for the last five years, the reviews just melted away the nerves I had.

I'm sorry for not getting this chapter up earlier, I'm a slow writer and it can take me about a week just to get the base of a chapter written and even then it's not coherent, it's just a bunch of paragraphs and ideas across the page. Then comes the editing process, which is an even bigger beast to tackle, because whatever I wrote in the first draft ends up getting entirely wiped and replaced with something entirely different. I end up with five different versions of the chapter in the end.

But the reason why this chapter in particular took even longer was because I was writing and editing a different chapter (which I stopped halfway to edit chapter 1) and I wanted to get that finished before I got started on this one.

 **DISCLAIMER:** I do not own _The Vampire Diaries_ or their characters. All rights go to their respective owners.

 **Twitter:** yoursklauss **/ Tumblr:** yoursniklaus

* * *

"Emma, are you sure you don't want me to do your hair?"

Caroline called out from the kitchen as she checked her daughter's lunch bag for the third time that morning. "Okay, so, ham and cheese sandwich with the crusts cut off, grape juice box, bag of carrots, yogurt pot and oatmeal cookies," she repeated aloud to herself.

"I'm sure!" Emma yelled out from Caroline's bedroom.

Today wasn't just another regular Monday at the Forbes' household. It was a very important and big day for one particular little girl who was getting ready to enter a whole new world of learning. Caroline had been both dreading and looking forward to this moment for a while, but as the weeks quickly rolled by and the day drew closer, it was definitely the former.

Ever since she woke up at the crack of dawn, Caroline had been fluttering around the apartment like a hummingbird, making sure all the supplies in her daughter's backpack matched up with the list the school provided, debating if she had packed enough for lunch, double-checking that the forms and questionnaires she was given were filled in with all the right information. But it didn't stop there. There was also the matter of getting herself ready, preparing breakfast, and replying back to the page-load of work emails.

And she managed to do it all without a single drop of caffeine in her system, which was probably not a good thing because then she'd have a real reason for acting so irrational.

Emma, on the other hand, didn't know the meaning of the word nervous. She had been waiting for this day ever since the letter confirming her place for the upcoming school year arrived in the mail. She could finally be with all the other big kids, learn all the interesting subjects like science and social studies, go on field trips to the museum, and all the other awesome things first graders got to do.

Caroline figured that by putting Emma to bed a few hours earlier than her normal bedtime, it would reduce her energy levels a little. It wasn't a huge surprise the next morning when her little experiment turned out to be nothing but a silly theory. Emma had woken up a whole twenty minutes early jumping and yelling on Caroline's bed, dug through her special breakfast of blueberry walnut pancakes as if she hadn't eaten anything in days, and even skipped the last fifteen minutes of her morning cartoon to get ready, insisting she could do it without Caroline's help.

"Alright, you have exactly twelve minutes before we need to leave." Caroline reminded.

"Don't worry mommy, I'll be ready in five minutes. I promise." Emma reassured her.

"I'll be counting the minutes."

Zipping up the lunch bag Caroline breathed a deep sigh. Her little girl was growing up _way_ too fast for her taste. It was like the past six years were shades of photographs only to look back and reminisce on: the first birthday celebration where Caroline turned her back for a second and Emma ended up pushing her cake onto the floor—thank god Caroline didn't put any candles on it—or the time Emma fed the ducks in the park her leftover sandwich crusts even though there was clearly a sign that said not to.

And now, thanks to the joys of technology, she could look at those memories whenever need be on her phone.

But there were some memories that just couldn't be framed or stored on a phone: like the day Caroline was finally allowed to bring Emma home from the hospital and cried for hours because this was finally real and there was no going back, not to mention the time when she lost Emma in the department store during the Christmas season and almost ripped apart the winter wonderland display looking for her.

Needless to say, motherhood was the ride with no safety belt. It was hands down the most exhausting, stressful and scariest thing Caroline ever experienced—and she had been a cheerleader in high school—but at the end of every day, when she got to tuck her daughter into bed, she knew she got the most rewarding and greatest blessing life could give.

The phone vibrating on the counter broke Caroline's line of thought. Just the person she needed to talk to _._ Quickly, swiping across the screen, she accepted the incoming FaceTime request.

"Is it possible to give yourself a panic attack? Because I'm 75% sure that's what's going to happen in the next five minutes." Caroline said, as her father's face materialized on the screen.

The video feed jittered and momentarily froze.

"Wait . . . dad, I can't hear you. Hang on."

Moving from the large suburban home she grew up in with four bathrooms and a wide backyard, to this tiny two-bedroom unit was, to say the least, a shock at first. How was she going to raise a child when there was hardly enough floor space, or fit a crib in the so-called master bedroom? It was like the universe was telling her to pack up and go back home, and what she was doing was a mistake. But New York couldn't get rid of her that easily. She eventually learned that size didn't matter, as long as she had Emma, she could call anywhere home.

"You need to get a better service provider Caroline, I don't know how you can work with that kind of connection." Her father joked like he always did when Caroline sat down on the couch and the feed finally stabilized.

"I'm serious, dad! I'm a nervous wreck over here!"

"How many cups of coffee have you had?" He warily asks.

"None." She muttered. "I'm not lying, you can even ask Emma." She frowned at the amused grin that crossed her father's face. _Seriously?_ _Was it really that hard to believe?_

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, I believe you. It's just, this reminds me of the time when you couldn't decide on what color dress you wanted to wear for your dance. I believe it was between myrtle green and teal, and you got angry at me for saying they both looked the same."

Caroline knew he was just trying to ease her stress, but hearing that story all over again just made her feel even more nervous than relaxed. After spending weeks obsessing and nit-picking over a dress for her first ever middle school dance, the whole evening turned out to be disastrous. Was she making a bigger deal out of Emma starting school than needed?

"Okay, bad example, but Sweet, just try to relax a bit or some of those nerves will pass on to Emma."

"Trust me when I say she's the least bit nervous. She's been like a firecracker for the past two days." Caroline sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I just can't believe she's starting school already."

"As much as I hate to admit it, she's growing up." He stated, smiling the slightest bit at that thought of his granddaughter turning into a mini teenage Caroline in a few years time.

"But she's supposed to stay my baby forever!"

"Something's we just don't have control over." He said solemnly.

"I could make her wait another year, or I could quit my job and even homeschool her, a lot of parents are doing it." Okay, now she was just rambling nonsense at this point.

"Caroline, you just about scraped a good enough grade to pass Math it was a miracle. I know you're worried about Emma starting school, but trust me, she'll be fine."

"But she's still so little! What if she gets lost or if she can't find the bathroom? Kids can bully and tease you for things like that. Or if she has a hard-time making friends, and no one wants to sit with her at lunch or—"

"Caroline," he abruptly cut her off before she could add anything else to the list of things that was clearly _not_ going to happen.

"Please take a deep breath before you swallow your tongue. Believe me when I say Emma is a smart, sweet, talented and funny kid. You've done such an amazing job with her and taught her everything she knows. This will be a whole new experience for her, she's ready for this." He reassured her with a gentle smile.

"I just want everything to go perfect for her, is that so bad?"

"No, but there is a thing as worrying too much. Trust me, she's going to be fine."

"Were you like this when I started school?"

"I couldn't wait for you to go. I would have the house all to myself."

"Gee, thanks dad." Caroline sardonically replied with a roll of her eyes.

"I stayed an entire twenty minutes after you went into class before the janitor threatened to call the principal. He probably didn't think I was a parent."

Caroline's face softened at his words. Her father had single-handedly raised her and she always admired him for giving up so much of his life to do so. Being a single father in a predominantly small town, people spoke and rumors swirled, all wondering _why_ he returned two years later with nothing but a small, wailing bundle in his arms. But he was a man of his words and nurtured and took care of her not caring what anyone thought. Caroline couldn't have asked for a better father.

"I still remember you scowling at me that morning for not getting your fishtail braid right."

"We ended up arriving to school late!" She argued.

"Only by a few minutes! And there was no YouTube back then so I couldn't exactly search online how to do it. Plus your instructions weren't the clearest, so technically it wasn't my fault." He defended.

"And after that I never wore braids again." She chuckled with a reminiscent smile.

That seemed like a whole other lifetime ago, and now here she was getting her own daughter ready for her first day of school. It suddenly struck her. It wasn't so much her daughter growing up that she had to worry about, but time, and how in a blink of an eye it would all go by.

"Now, where is my granddaughter? I wanna wish her luck on her big day."

"Emma! Gramps is on the phone." Caroline yelled out.

Her daughter might have inherited her golden locks and sunny disposition, but she sure didn't take after her when it came to getting ready in the morning. Just wait until she was a teenager – it would be a total 180 change.

A blur of blonde hair breezed into the room with as much grace as a hurricane. "Gramps!" She peered at the screen and grinned widely.

"Jellybean. Look at you all ready for your first day of school."

"I got dressed all by myself and in less than ten minutes." She proudly proclaimed and twirled around to model the ensemble her and Caroline pieced together. It was a simple cream-colored top that had frills on the sleeve, along with a cute floral print skirt.

"I even wore the bracelet. See." She held up her wrist that was adorned with a button bracelet of different shades of blue she crafted herself.

"You did a good job and look lovely." Caroline praised and kissed her temple.

"You must be excited, huh?"

"Uh-huh! I'm not scared at all." Emma nodded her head vehemently as she replied, her curls bouncing wildly around her face.

He almost forgot how eerily similar his daughter and granddaughter was, and today just hit him hard with that reminder. Apart from the hair fiasco, she was acting in the same exuberant way as Caroline was on her first day, and suddenly all the memories came flooding back to him. It made a hard lump rise in his throat seeing another of his girls grow up right before him.

"Gramps, are you okay?" Emma asked worriedly, after a long period of silence.

He cleared his throat and thinly smiled at her. "I'm fine Jellybean. Just glad to hear how excited you are, because your mother was acting very neurotic when I spoke to her earlier."

"Hey!" Caroline protested indignantly. "I wasn't being neurotic! And what did I say about using _that_ word?" She asked sternly, a deep frown marring her face.

Emma covered her mouth to hide the giggles, but did a very unconvincing job. "Mommy's been acting like that since _last_ night! You should've seen her Gramps, it was so funny."

"You know, it's rude to talk about someone as if they're not sitting right next to you." Caroline huffed and threw her arms across her chest in a crossed fashion.

Emma turned to face her mother and leaned into her side. "I'm only joking mommy."

"Mhm." Caroline murmured.

"So, do you have everything ready then?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Yep! Mommy and I went through everything yesterday: we sharpened my pencils, made sure the markers worked, counted my crayons, which ended up taking forever because there was only twenty three in the pack when there's meant to be twenty four! We almost spent fifteen minutes looking for the missing green crayon. Mommy later found it under my bed, even though I was sure I already looked there." She spoke in her signature way of telling as much information as possible: swift and without taking a single pause for a gasp of air.

Somehow he managed to get all of that. Every scenario she ended up telling him—and there had been a few—appeared more exciting and crazier than the last. Even if it sounded slightly exaggerated, Emma was certainly keeping Caroline on her toes, that's for sure.

"Well, we can't have our little artist going to school without the whole set now."

Emma's head immediately perked up and her features widened at the mention of the word _artist_. "I can't believe I forgot to tell you! You'll never guess who I met on Friday!" She chirped, excitement radiating off her.

"Hmm," he tapped his chin and thought about it real hard for a second. "I don't know tell me."

"I met a _real_ artist and I got to watch him paint!"

His eyebrows arched in surprise. "A real artist? Wow! That definitely sounds a lot cooler than anyone who I had pictured."

"But what Emma so cleverly left out, was that she wandered off on her own in a crowded subway station just to go see him." Caroline interjected, and threw her daughter a playful glare.

"Well, she is an adventurous girl, and just wants to see all the exciting things out there. Remember when she was four and kept chasing after the seagulls at the beach? She was this close to getting hit in the head by that incoming volleyball."

"Dad! You're making me nostalgic again."

"What does _that_ word mean?" Emma curiously asked.

"I'll tell you later. Why don't you show Gramps the autograph the artist gave you?" Caroline suggested, brushing a loose curl away from her daughter's eyes.

"Oh yeah!" Emma beamed and leaped off the couch. "I'll be right back!" Her voice faded as she darted off to her bedroom.

"So, Tyler, was a no show? Again?" He asked, his words colored in scorn.

Caroline didn't need to say anything, the answer was clearly written all over her face.

"You know, I never liked him when you two were dating in high school, but seeing how he treats his own daughter just takes the cake. He hasn't seen her for what, two months now? Did he even call wishing her luck today?"

"I think he forgot."

"No surprise there. It's time you did something about this Caroline. He doesn't pay any child support, hardly wants to spend anytime with her, he can't even pick up the phone to talk to her for even five minutes. That precious company of his doesn't even need him there half the time. He's just avoiding responsibility, which is completely absurd because Emma is potty trained and doesn't need babying anymore."

Caroline hated having to hear _The Tyler_ lecture. She didn't need another reminder that she was given the short end of the stick when it came to the father of her child. She knew her dad only had good intentions and was just looking out for his granddaughter, but she could handle the situation on her own.

Even if she was doing her best and was ultimately happy raising Emma on her own, there would always be this thought at the back of her mind as to what their life would be like if she never told Tyler she was pregnant to begin with. Would she feel guiltier about Emma not having a father versus having one who never came to see his own daughter?

"Dad, we've already talked about this. I don't want to put any unwanted strain on Emma, especially now that she's starting school." Caroline protested.

"Sweet, these are the years she'll remember her father not being there for her. How many moments has he already missed because he simply didn't want to come or forgot? It probably _is_ already having an effect on her, but she just puts on a happy façade and doesn't want to worry you. It's exactly how you were with your mother."

The truth struck a hard cord with her, and it stung. Could she really have been that blind not to notice her own daughter was burying her feelings the same way she did?

"But mom was never in the picture to begin with. Tyler is or tries to be."

"You don't have to defend him Caroline. Trying is not enough, that little girl deserves so much better."

A weary breath fell from her lips. "I know. I know. Tyler already made it clear what he wants, I just have to find a way to tell Emma without sounding like the bad guy."

"Caroline, the last thing you are is a bad person. I know you only have Emma's best interest at heart and want to protect her from getting hurt, but sometimes things have to hurt in order for them to get better."

"Here it is!" Emma announced as she emerged from her bedroom. "Isn't it awesome?" She held up the piece of paper that had the cursive initials of K.M scrawled on it.

He squinted forward to see it more clearly. "Very awesome. Make sure you keep it somewhere safe."

"I will."

He sighed, "Well, you girls better get going if you want to make it on time. Jellybean, I hope you have a great day and I can't wait to hear all about it. Caroline, don't worry okay? Everything will play out fine."

"Thank you Gramps! I love you!"

"I love you both too."

"Bye, dad. I'll call you later okay. I love you, bye!" They both smiled and waved until the line disconnected and the screen went dark.

"When will we go visit Gramps again? I miss his hugs."

"Only two more months until Turkey Day and then you can have all the hugs you want." Caroline smiled as she witnessed the large grin etch across her daughter's face.

"But until then, the only thing you have to worry about is school Little Miss. Now are you _sure_ you have everything in your backpack? All your pencils, crayons, notebooks, your reading book—"

"Mom!" Emma whined softly.

"What?"

"You're doing it again."

Caroline wrinkled her nose at her daughter's comment. "I'm being totally neurotic like Gramps said I was aren't I?"

Emma giggled and slung her backpack over her shoulder. "Yes, and I checked my backpack twice this morning like you told me too. I have everything, I promise."

"Alright, we just have one more thing to do. Take a picture to commemorate your big day!" She beamed to which Emma let out a prolonged groan.

"Oh please! Just one for mommy." She begged and curled her lip into a small pout.

Emma sighed in defeat. "Fine."

Caroline beckoned Emma to stand by the entrance table and look straight ahead. Now with her backpack on, her beautiful curls still wild as ever, and her eyes bright with excitement, her daughter truly looked like she was ready to take on the world of learning and If she was ready, then Caroline didn't need to worry about her fitting in.

"Ready? One, two, three smile!" Caroline grinned and snapped the beautiful picture. Another, wonderful bittersweet moment captured forever on her phone.

"Perfect! Now one of us together." She crouched down next to her daughter and raised the phone up at the right angle so they both fit into the frame. Making sure the natural sunlight from the window was hitting the right places and their smiles were wide, she finally got the perfect shot.

Caroline smiled at the picture, pleased with the outcome. For sure, that was going to be her wallpaper for the next few months. "Okay! Are you all ready to go?" Her eyes gave a quick sweep of the room for anything they might've left behind.

"I'm ready!"

Thankfully, they didn't live that far and ten minutes later they were standing in front of the large red-brick building bearing the name _West Oaks Elementary School_ in carved letters that practically shined.

"Looks pretty exciting, huh?" Caroline commented, her eyes darting around the noisy schoolyard brimming with all sorts of bright-eyed children and their overprotective parents.

"Are you sure you want me to come inside with you?"

Even though Emma had already decided beforehand that it was okay for them to walk into school together—and Caroline fully intended on keeping her daughter by her side until the last possible second—she just wanted to make sure Emma hadn't changed her mind on the walk over.

Emma bobbed her head and kept her hand firmly clasped around Caroline's.

Caroline was surprised her daughter didn't say anything—come to think of it, Emma got weirdly quiet when they turned the last street corner—but she just gave her hand a gentle reassuring squeeze as they ascended the school steps and entered the wide hallway.

"If I remember, Mrs. May's class is just at the end of this hall."

Caroline and all the other parents in Emma's class had met Mrs. May a few weeks ago, where she gave a very informed talk on how the rest of the year was going to be laid out. What she hoped her students would achieve, weekly homework and reading schedules, the kind of tests they would routinely have, how the grading system worked and how each child would get their own weekly targets to strive for. Caroline deduced she was a nice young lady. She knew Emma wouldn't be a problem in her class and would enjoy learning with her.

As they passed by the lockers and welcome posters, Emma's steps grew less and less confident until they reached the door that was decorated with a bunch of shooting stars. Yes, this was the classroom she remembered sitting in that evening.

Caroline turned to face her daughter and her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "What's wrong?" she softly asked, bending down to her level.

The sunny smile that was on Emma's face mere moments ago, had evaporated into thin air, along with the unmistakable glimmer of excitement in her eyes. It was like the girl who had been so happy to finally start school had vanished.

"What if they don't like me? What if the other girls think I'm not girly enough? Or if the teacher asks me a question and I don't know the answer?"

 _Oh, no_. Did she really pass her nerves to her daughter? _No, no, no._

"Oh, sweetie. No, no, no, no. Listen to me, okay? I don't want you to _ever_ doubt yourself. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I was worried that you weren't ready for this, but I know now you truly are. So what if you don't like playing with dolls, or if you get an answer wrong, it doesn't make you any less of the wonderful person you are. You got that? Now, who are you?"

"I'm Emma," she stated quietly.

"No," Caroline shook her head, " _Who_ are you?"

"I'm a Forbes."

"Exactly! And Forbes' are strong, and powerful women." Emma repeated with her mother, a proud smile smeared across her face.

"You got into that classroom with your head held high, and be the incredible and amazing person Gramps and I know. Because you're a Forbes, and by definition that means you're destined for greatness." Caroline cradled her daughter's face and told her sincerely.

"You can do this Emma, all you have to do is take a few steps. Are you ready to do that?"

Emma smiled and nodded her head, the confidence already back with a vengeance. "I can do this! I'm ready!"

With a satisfied smile, Caroline threw her arms around her daughter with a strong force and held her close. "You need to stop growing up so fast young lady. Before I know it, you'll be leaving me and I'll have to adopt ten cats." She murmured into her curls.

"I'll never leave you mommy!" Emma leaned up and kissed her mother on the cheek.

Caroline sniffed and held her tighter, "I know, but mommy is just going to have to suck it up, because I want to see you grow up into a beautiful lady."

"You could have another baby." Emma suggested.

Caroline laughed and stroked her daughter's hair. "Mommy has to find a man first in order for that to happen. But I don't need a man, I have you and you are more than enough."

Caroline continued to hold Emma close and Emma gripped her just a little tighter. They both stayed like that, not uttering another word, just enjoying the sweet moment, until the shrill of the bell rang through their ears.

"I have to go now mommy."

Caroline sighed, "I know. I love you so so _so_ much my little first grader. I'm so proud to call you _my_ daughter."

"I love you too mommy."

Caroline slowly unwrapped her arms and tenderly kissed her daughter's forehead. "Go have fun and show the world who Emma Elizabeth Forbes is."

Gripping the straps of her backpack, Emma drew in a deep breath and bravely waltzed into the classroom without taking a single glance back.

Emma was going to be okay.

They were both going to be okay.

* * *

No Klaus in this chapter, but don't worry he'll be making an appearance again soon. I know this seems like a filler chapter, but I felt it was important to showcase the relationship between Caroline & Emma because they are the heart of the story. I also have no knowledge on what kind of character Bill Forbes really is (& most of the stories I have read rarely feature him) so I wanted to do something different and whatever I felt worked for the story.

As for the next chapter, it needs **MAJOR** editing. I haven't touched it since the beginning of November, so that will take me quite a while to fix up (maybe 4/5+ weeks, just being realistic, look how long it took me to edit this chapter) Any updates/status of this story will now be posted on my FanFiction profile page (:

\- Nishita


	3. The Promotion, Maybe?

**A/N:** Hi, guys—peeks out from hiding. I know it's been months since I last updated and I never wanted to be one of those writers that became like that, but things weren't the greatest, and I hate using that as my excuse, but it was something that not even writing could help—and writing is literally my escape from everything. It seemed whatever I wrote, was literal crap, and I wasn't happy. But I pushed through, and finally produced something I thought was decent enough—even if it did take four months.

I hope you're not mad.

 **DISCLAIMER:** I do not own _The Vampire Diaries_ or their characters. All rights go to their respective owners.

 **Twitter:** yoursklauss / **Tumblr:** yoursniklaus

* * *

"Hey Bonnie." Caroline brightly approached the woman standing by the elevator in the lobby of the building.

"Care, you're here earlier than usual." Bonnie stated, smiling up at her friend.

Caroline swore the first time she met Bonnie Bennett that she finally found her long, lost, unknown sister—her father had a lot of explaining to do—which, of course, being Caroline, she did _not_ at all blurt that out to her and scare her off for about a week before facing her again—some first impression that was.

"I didn't really have much of a choice, Emma practically dragged me out of the door, I barely had time to properly check my hair." Caroline corroborated with a frustrated huff, running a hand through her tousled curls that were artfully pinned to the side.

"If that's what rushing out the front door looks like, then yeah, it's a total travesty. I'd hate to see what a real setback would do." Bonnie remarked, a grin evident in her voice. She literally was the epitome of moral rectitude in a tiny, spirited and fierce package—no wonder she killed at being a journalist.

"Hey, I didn't even have any coffee this morning either so, I count that as a setback as well thank you very much." Caroline shot back with a pointed look.

Bonnie narrowed her eyes at the blonde. "No coffee and you're _still_ here early? Hmm, the hair and the outfit might be a dead ringer, but where is the _real_ Caroline Forbes?"

"Probably on a private island somewhere without a care or responsibility in the world."

Bonnie laughed as the elevator opened and they both stepped inside. "You and me both."

Now that Caroline thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time she had an actual vacation and just relaxed, everything was always in motion, constantly switching from one thing to the next, there was no time to stop and take a breather. Spending a week or even a day in a place where the sun never stopped shining surrounded by the soothing waves crashing against the shore sounded like another life.

"So, I take it Emma was every bit as excited to finally start school." Bonnie asked when the elevator finally emptied and it was just the two of them.

"To the letter." Caroline fished out her phone and handed it over to Bonnie, where the image on the screen was of her daughter's beaming first day of school smile.

"Look at those curls!" Bonnie gushed, grinning widely. "And that smile. She really is a growing up to be more and more like a mini you, only I sense she'll be a whole lot more mischievous in the years to come."

Caroline laughed. "Wouldn't be our Emma otherwise."

"I can't believe she's in school now, soon it'll all be about boys and new feelings, and before you know, you'll be moving her into her dorm for her freshmen year of college." Bonnie sighed reflectively, handing the phone back to Caroline.

Did the elevator come to a sudden halt and throw her off balance or was it the sound of her heart slowly sinking into the bottomless pit of the abyss?

 _Boys? Feelings? Changes?_

No, no, no, it was way too soon for all of that. She was just on the verge of coming to terms with this whole schooling step, but hearing all the other hurdles that would soon follow: new feelings certain boys would bring, physical changes, and the whole notion of Emma growing up and leaving her made all the apprehension she felt earlier swell in her chest again.

"I mean, we are _still_ light years away before all that even happens, and who knows, maybe Emma might not even go to college, she could end up pregnant straight out of high school and abandon any hope of attending. Like mother like daughter, right?"

Okay, she definitely overstepped the mark there. By all means, that was the very _last_ thing she had her heart set on, she wanted her daughter to go off to college, achieve her dreams, fall in love, travel the world, and above all, find true happiness, but was it so bad that she also wanted her to remain frozen in time for all eternity?

"Care . . ." Bonnie began, her eyes softening at their edges.

"Sorry Bonnie, it's just, dropping her off this morning was a lot harder than I thought it would be. All these memories and emotions kept flooding to the surface—not all pleasant ones too might I add—and then Emma got all nervous because I, as usual _,_ was a neurotic mess agonizing over every tiny thing."

Pausing for a moment, Caroline pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed a deep, calming sigh. "I don't know Bon, it was all just a little too. . ."

"Overwhelming?" Bonnie finished for her with a fond smile etched across her features.

"Yeah. . ." Caroline nodded. "I just hope she's okay, you know. I've never been away from her for practically an entire day before."

"Care, I know it's been tough on you these past few years—and you completely deserve a long break selfishly sipping Mai Tais and soaking up the sun somewhere in the Key West because I don't know how you juggle it all—but I think this will not only make your bond stronger, but also take a little off your shoulders and give you a bit of easement."

Bonnie was right—when had she not been? As much as she hated the concept, she couldn't keep a hold of Emma forever, it would only make it harder for herself in the future when she does eventually go off to college and explore the world. And at the same time, Emma needed this—not because Caroline would be breaking the law if she didn't make sure her daughter received an education—but to make friends, learn things about herself, and just enjoy her time being a kid.

"You know, sometimes you freak me out with how right you are with those philosophical notions of yours." Caroline smiled, already feeling the strain lessen. The world would be a much better place if there were a lot more Bonnie Bennett's in it.

"It's a Bennett thing." Bonnie replied, casually shrugging.

"Speaking of _things_ , how was your little weekend getaway with Enzo? Hmm? Did you roast marshmallows, watch the sun slowly set by the lake and then spend the night curled up by the warm fire in a loving embrace underneath the moon and stars?" Caroline winked, her lips twisting into a leer.

"It was . . . you know, decent, fine, even."

"Okay, _decent_ I understand because you're basically out in the middle of nowhere with no real sanitation and nothing but bugs, bears and whatever other wild animals like to lurk behind the trees, but _fine_? Seriously? Not even romantic or hot?"

Bonnie just shrugged nonchalantly.

"Was the tent not big enough for his ego? Did he accidentally get poison ivy—boy talk about a major mood killer—or the most likely scenario, were you in the middle of doing it and a giant bear snuck up from behind you, because I saw that on the news once, or was that _Naked and Afraid_?"

"No bears, there were no bears there Caroline, it was a simple camping ground hardly Yellowstone."

"But, something _did_ happen in those woods, what are you not telling me? Wait, did he—" she gasped and her eyes went wide, "Bonnie Bennett! No! And you kept it from me the entire weekend! Why are you not jumping for joy right now?"

"I didn't exactly give him an answer."

A deep furrow appeared between her brows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he did the whole thing, you know, got down on his knee at the right moment underneath the moonlight and stars, recited the entire speech from beginning to end, but when the big question came, I don't know what came over me, I just . . . froze up."

"Then what?" Caroline prodded.

"Once the awkward silence and avoiding eye contact with him and that box passed—which believe me lasted a good minute or two—I just told him that it was something I would need to think about." Bonnie explained, frowning a little.

"I take it back, _this_ is an even bigger mood killer than poison ivy."

Caroline immediately regretted her choice of words the second they slipped from her big mouth. Bonnie was in clear need of some advice and this is how she justifies helping her? By making her feel worse than she already was? Caroline might as well take the best out of the friend equation now.

"Sorry Bonnie, that was totally uncalled for, but forgive me for asking, do you still—"

"Love him? Of course. I mean, I think I do, we've been together for almost two years. He was the first person I met when I moved here, the first person to show me what a real relationship should be like, the first person who called me beautiful and actually meant it."

And all of that did sound like the recipe for a picture-perfect, long-lasting relationship rooted with deep affection and happiness, but there was a shadow of doubt, a tiny flicker of hesitation lying underneath her words that couldn't be missed.

"I couldn't say yes, but at the same time I didn't want to say no either. I don't know what it was, there was just something about this next adventure as he called it that didn't send me flying to cloud nine."

Admitting and hearing out loud the thoughts she kept to herself since that night, didn't make Bonnie feel any less relieved or make the reality of the situation any less daunting like she hoped it would. Instead, she felt ashamed of herself because she truly did want the whole heart-soaring-with-happiness and fireworks-exploding-in-her-stomach thing to happen, but really in the moment there was . . . nothing.

"It sounds like you've already made your choice Bon." Caroline replies gently.

With a soft sigh of defeat, Bonnie leaned against the elevator wall and resigned herself to the outcome of her predicament, no matter how much she wished it could be the other way around.

"I knew something was wrong with me. I thought it had to do with this new position I took on because my hours got extended and the workload tripled, I hardly saw him—that's why he planned the whole weekend getaway in the first place, so we could spend time together. I thought the feeling would go cold turkey, but I guess it didn't."

Caroline reached over and took her friend's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Bonnie, you know I love you, you're the most level-headed person I know and above all, I consider you to be my sister—wow, that definitely sounded a lot better than the first time I said it and we both know how that turned out. . ." She trailed off with a grumble to which Bonnie just smiled and shook her head.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, if you feel in your heart this is not what you want, then it's completely okay, don't tell yourself otherwise. Sure, it's not exactly what the guy wants to hear, but who cares? You can't help how you feel and you shouldn't feel guilty for that—okay the last part sounded like a total contradiction, but you get where I'm going with this right?"

"Yeah," Bonnie nodded with a light laugh. "Thanks Care, I really needed to hear that."

"I mean it Bon. You deserve to be happy."

The elevator dinged, and Bonnie mustered her best ready-to-kick-ass-there-is-nothing-wrong face just before the doors rolled open to the sixth floor.

"Call me if you need anything, okay?" Caroline told her meaningfully, before turning on her heels towards the highly-furnished _VenYou_ offices.

Poor Bonnie, falling out of love was just as sad and painful as the title would suggest. One moment you're living in this bubble of pure bliss and then wake up one morning to realize the air inside the bubble is just not the same. The wonderfully warm sensation you always felt in the past is no longer present, his touch doesn't shoot currents of electricity down your spine anymore and feels somewhat foreign, all that passion and rapture is suddenly burnt out and in its place, is nothing more than an empty, hollow vessel.

It really was the worst kind of heartbreak imaginable—slow, subtle and silent.

But in the end, that's what love does to people.

"Miss Forbes! Miss Forbes!"

 _Oh, great._

That high-pitched squeal of a voice floating behind her, belonged to the two-dimensional, fresh out of Fashion Institute of Technology graduate, Camille, the newest intern the company decided to hire and guess who had the utmost pleasure of taking her on as an assistant for the next three months?

"Miss Forbes, you're here earlier than you usually are." Camille half-stumbled, trying to keep up with her Caroline's brisk pace, which, to be fair, she succeeded for the most part, since Caroline made no move to slow down—she was after all, a woman on a mission.

 _Yes, I'm well aware of that,_ Caroline inwardly rolled her eyes. "These events aren't going to plan themselves, and Camille, how many times have I told you to call me Caroline?"

"Sorry, Miss Forb—I mean Caroline," Camille apologized. "I swear on the life of my cat, it won't happen again."

Just how many lives did that cat have anyway? Caroline vaguely wondered, shrugging off her jacket. It had to be more than nine by this point.

"So, what exciting things are on the agenda for today, boss?" She queried eagerly. "Please tell me we don't have to spend the entire day cooped up in here."

"Caroline, not boss." Caroline corrected again.

Well, there goes another cat's life.

She continued. "And we'll see how the day goes—"

"But that's what you said last time, and the time before that, _and_ the time before that. I thought this kind of business was meant to be fun and glamorous, not sitting behind a desk all day." Camille complained, a disappointed frown marring her lips.

In retrospect, maybe Caroline shouldn't have described what her job entailed in such a thrilling and stylish way, when in reality there was a lot more to being an event planner than the free Prosecco and bossing others around—though she had to admit, that part was always fun not to mention satisfying on so many levels.

"It can't be all fun and games when there is actual work to be done."

"But why?" Camille whined as though she were a child denied her favorite piece of candy.

Didn't she literally just explain that to her? But really, what else did she expect from the intern who could never get her name right. _Three more months_ , she told herself reassuringly. Just three more months and she'd be able to feel sane again.

"Because, as much as I would love to spend the entire day picking out color palettes and scoping out venues, there are tight deadlines to meet, important schedules that need to be followed."

"But it's just a schedule at the end of the day, kind of like a guideline, right?" Camille said in a casual manner.

 _Just a schedule?_

 _Like a guideline?_

Sure, Camille was blonde and Caroline didn't want to bring up the stereotype she worked so hard to prove wrong, but were those strands seriously seeping into her head and slowly taking away what little intellect Camille had left?

 _Deep breath Caroline, only three more months._

But the thought did nothing to console her anymore, it was just an unpleasant reminder of what was to come in the long days and weeks ahead. How was she going to handle it if she couldn't even get through this conversation without wanting to pull her eyes out?

"So, that's a definite no then, we're staying here?"

 _Unfortunately_ , Caroline thought sourly.

Though Caroline truly enjoyed her line of work, she'd rather be in the woods with all the bears and bugs in the world than be stuck an entire day—well, technically six hours—with her constant presence and questions.

"Yes. Now here's the list of suppliers you need to call to make sure they have everything ready for the McKinley event."

Camille leaned forward and peered intently at the sheet of paper, her eyes widening in disbelief. "But there's like twenty numbers on here! I can't possibly do all of that!" She cried.

Caroline sharply exhaled through pursed lips, trying to contain what little patience she had left. "Camille, it's not rocket science, see I even took the time to color code each category, add a pricing list, a description of each item and who you need to speak with, so it's impossible to get lost."

 _Or mess up._

It's not like she was asking for a lot, right? If anything, she was being a little too nice with all the extra padding, but since she had no choice in keeping Camille, she would at least put her to some productive use, instead of being one of those assistants who only ran back and forth between the coffee maker and copier.

"But I'm no good at talking on the phone." Camille argued.

"I'm sorry, but you took on this internship and I expect you to follow—"

Camille jumped in before Caroline could finish her sentence. "I just feel people respond a lot better to me when I speak to them face-to-face, you know."

If by respond, she meant the feeling of wanting to kick that little head off of those refined shoulders like a soccer ball, then it was good to know they were at least on the same page for one thing.

"Camille—" Caroline tried to interject, only to be spoken over again.

"Plus, I've always been told my smile is my best quality, so why not use it to our advantage, sweeten the deal a bit?"

Caroline pressed her palms flat against the surface, feeling the frustration mount. Why couldn't she have landed an intern who just did the work without making the veins in her temples throb.

"Camille, just stop and listen to me for a moment." Caroline implored.

"Sorry, Miss Forbes, I—"

"It's Caroline!" Caroline snapped, cutting her off heatedly, finally having enough of this merry-go-round of excuses. "My name is Caroline, not Miss Forbes, not boss, CAROLINE! Do you understand?"

"Caroline?"

 _Oh, no._ Caroline quickly stood, clearly surprised to see her boss standing in the doorframe of her office, and judging by the way her lips were settled into a firm line meant she heard everything.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," she said, eyes flickering between the two blondes, "but I just wanted to make sure you had everything ready for the meeting with Katherine tomorrow."

Caroline's gaze grew intent, an uneasy knot twisting inside her stomach. The single-most important assignment her boss specifically set up for her, which if signed, sealed and delivered, practically guaranteed the promotion she always wanted was happening tomorrow?

How could it have slipped her mind like that? Caroline prided herself on being a perfectionist, it was pretty much her superpower, that and mastering the art of making a mean grilled cheese without burning it to a crisp—though her daughter would argue it was more of an annoying quirk.

"Katherine as in Katherine _the_ model is coming here tomorrow?" Camille echoed through the uncomfortable silence that was starting to reign over, bewilderment coloring her voice.

Her boss lifted her manicured brows, surprised at Camille's response. "Caroline, didn't mention it to you?"

 _Great_ , Caroline thought, as if she couldn't look less professional.

"I guess it must've slipped my mind, with my daughter starting school and—"

"Caroline," Her tone wrapped in a calm register which Caroline always found to be a little self-deprecating. "I know I have been very lenient in the past with your situation."

Right, the sad case that practically begged to bring her three-year-old to work with her because she couldn't afford daycare. Like she wanted to be reminded of such a low point in her life.

"But if you can't handle this, then maybe I considered the wrong—"

"No, no!" Caroline shook her head, stopping her tangent. "I can _definitely_ handle it."

She had no intention of losing this. There was a lot more riding on this than the satisfaction of putting on an event of this kind, it meant being able to sleep soundly at night without encountering the constant fear of not being enough for her daughter.

The older woman hums in consideration, before meeting her eyes. "For your sake, I hope you're right."

Caroline huffed out an unbidden sigh of relief. She sincerely hoped so too, or in other words: _screw this up and you're done for Forbes._

"So . . . do I get to meet Katherine?"

* * *

So, Caroline is kind of cynical when it comes to love and she's still not okay with Emma growing up, but she's trying to deal with it. How were the characters of Bonnie & Camille? I wasn't originally going to add Bonnie but I felt like Caroline needed some interaction with people other than her daughter and Klaus, & yes, it was my intention to make Camille the way she is—very annoying and irritating.

Sorry, no Klaroline—again—in this chapter, but guess who will be making an appearance in the next chapter?

Thank you again for being really patient with me & I'm sorry again for the delay. I don't expect the next chapter to take as long, but any updates will be put on my profile page (:

\- Nishita


End file.
